


I'm glad it's you

by orphan_account



Category: Rugby RPF, Rugby Union RPF
Genre: M/M, Owen is sorry, apparently, more apologies than doctor who, slightly cliche
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 01:31:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5145314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone messed up hotel bookings, and Owen owes them. Maybe he'll add them to his Card list this year.<br/>(can you tell I'm rubbish at summaries?) (and titles as well)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm glad it's you

**Author's Note:**

> don't know if this matters to anyone, but there is some swearing.  
> 

It was just for one night, they'd promised that. So he didn't see why he'd reacted like that. Only one night until the hotel could check them into the room that he and George were actually supposed to be in. Somehow, Owen's not entirely sure how, but somehow, someone had managed to book the wrong rooms leaving him and George in a room with only one double bed. And looking back he'd probably overreacted. Ok that was a slight understatement. He'd definitely overreacted, he'd caused a massive fuss and, if he's honest, said some horrible things, not just about the poor guy who booked the room and the hotel staff who really weren't at fault, but to George. He didn't even want to think about that, he'd regretted the words as soon as he'd realised what had spilt from his mouth but at that point it was too late to take them back. He'd said them. He'd have to try and fix the mess he'd made later when he found George.

He was moping when he had dinner with the team, and he knew that really he was acting like a petulant little child but he kept sulking. He felt even worse when he saw that George along with Sam and Ben, weren't there. He remembered how hurt George had looked when he'd started complaining, it was a sight he'd seen before, but he'd never been the cause of it. George was good at hiding when he felt hurt, but Owen knew him well enough now to recognise the signs by now. He'd never wanted to hurt him ever, and he was starting to hate himself for it. The worst part was that Owen wasn't even angry about having to share with George. But he was scared he would do something stupid over the night and ruin his friendship with George. He'd hoped the crush,and he _really_ hated using that word, would go away after a bit just like they're supposed to, but because Owen is the luckiest person ever, It didn't.

Owen's brooding was interrupted by someone poking him with a fork handle, he looked to his left and saw the concerned face of his captain. "You alright Owen? you've not even started yet are you  ill or something mate?" Owen shook his head and replied " yeah  I'm fine, was just distracted" he hadn't realised that whilst he was contemplating the meaning of life, _ok, not exactly but whatever,_ everyone else had pretty much finished eating. He started shovelling the shepherd's pie into his mouth, not caring how ridiculous he probably looked and gave Chris a thumbs up. He didn't want to have to answer hundred of questions, he wasn't in the mood. 

 

Owen had got back from watching a movie in Richard's room. It'd been organised  so they could get to know the new guys.  He mainly went because he was hoping to see George but he wasn't there anyway. He wasn't overly surprised when he didn't see him, obviously he knew he would probably still be upset, but he'd still held some hope that he might be there anyway. He'd just finished brushing his teeth before deciding to call it a night when he heard a faint "Owen?" from the other end of his, and George's room. "Yeah George?" he called putting his toothbrush away and rounding the corner out of the bathroom.

George is curled up on the chair by the window, his fingers fiddling with a loose bit of thread on his jumper that he still hasn't cut off. Owen's pretty sure it's been like that for months now. "George?" Owen knew the way he'd reacted had hurt George, he just hadn't been aware it would affect him as much as it apparently had.  "I know you're pretty annoyed by this" and Owen knows George is just trying to be kind with that colossal understatement about his reaction earlier "and I was thinking" George continued "that if you wanted me to I could, you know, sleep or the floor or something? Or maybe I could swap with someone if you'd, if you'd rather share with someone else, I'll ask Sam or Henry or, or, Brad or someone."George still hadn't properly looked at him and at this point Owen felt terrible, he really didn't want George to think he'd rather he slept on the floor, and he _certainly_ didn't want to share the bed with anyone else. Owen's so angry with himself for being an idiot earlier. He was so worried about doing something stupid and ruining his friendship with George that he's probably done the very thing he was trying not to do.

Sighing Owen ran his hand through his hair and sat on the edge of the very bed that had caused his friend to be so upset, _ok so that was actually his fault, but Owen's decided he wants to blame the bed,so..._ "I don't want you to sleep on the floor, I didn't mean for this to happen. Please don't sleep on the floor Georgie."  George looked up at the sound of Owen's nickname for him, the one he thought hours before that he might not ever hear again. "Seriously, I'm so so sorry about the way I reacted earlier I was just worried. And I know that's a really shitty excuse and honestly I was so horrible I feel crap but it really isn't like that I'm just so sorry" Owen buried his face in his hands. He couldn't think of a way to explain this without telling George about everything. And even then he wasn't sure if that would make anything better.  Either way he was totally  screwed. "I especially don't want you to swap with anyone else and, if I'm sharing a bed with anyone Georgie, then I'm really glad it's you" There was a pause when George went back to twiddling his jumper thread before he finally spoke. "Owen, I, what? I don't understand." And no, _of course he didn't_ Owen thought. He really wasn't explaining anything at all well and if he were in George's position, he would be equally confused.

"George I'm not annoyed, I'm not angry, I'm not mad, not with anyone but myself. I was a complete and utter idiot earlier and I hate what I said and I'm sorry it made you feel bad, I really am, I'm honestly  not just saying that, I mean it. And you'll probably laugh or think I'm stupid or just hate me when I tell you why I was like that" George was still a little confused after Owen's half explanation, but he was happier knowing that his best friend wasn't annoyed with him. "Owen you know I could never hate you right? You could tell me anything, except maybe that you put the milk in the tea mug first, and I would never hate you. I don't think I could. Please. I'm so confused, just explain it to me, or something?" he trailed off. And Owen knew at that point that really he should probably explain to George, he deserved to have this whole mess that Owen , _the bed,_ had caused explained to him. The worst that could happen was that he could alienate his best friend. What did he have to lose right?

"I, I said that stuff, well, I was scared. I just freaked out and didn't think what I was saying, and I didn't want anyone, especially any of the coaches, to suspect anything, and, and I didn't want to mess up our friendship, except  I've basically done a wonderful job at that anyway." He gave a short bitter laugh "I just never wanted you not to be my friend anymore. I never want to lose you, and now I'm scared that I might anyway" Owen shuffles on the bed and wraps brings his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them , he doesn't ever remember being this nervous, not when he made his England debut, or when he first met up with the squad. Never. He realises he still isn't really making sense, he's just being , if it was even possible, _yes it was apparently possible_ , even more cryptic than before. George still looks confused, although Owen thought he could see a hint of something that look like hope in his eyes, before deciding that he'd probably made that up.

"George, ok I'm not making much sense, what I'm, what I'm trying to say is that" There's a pause that to Owen feels as if it lasted hours, where he wished he had a loose jumper thread as well, but in reality it probably lasted a few seconds at most. "I think I love you?" it comes out as a question and if Owen thought he was nervous before, well it was nothing compared to how he felt now. He wanted to hide under the blankets and never come out again, he'd probably just lost his best friend. He'd ruined everything and now everything would awkward and then he'd have to explain what happened to everyone and they'd probably all laugh at him and - His internal monologue of rambling was cut off by George saying "You're such an idiot, you that right?"

Owen felt  like crying, of course he was an idiot, why did he even tell George? He knew he'd never feel the same, why did he just go and ruin everything like that? Years of friendship, having bedrooms opposite each others, coming up through the age groups together, everything. He'd ruined all of it with just a few words.

But what Owen didn't realise is that George was grinning, he was positively beaming when Owen had said he loved him. George was surprised, that's for sure, after Owen's reaction to the news that they would be sharing for the night he was devastated. He'd thought that Owen didn't want to be near him, he'd even thought that maybe all their years of friendship was some sort of elaborate joke. He thought he'd lost the love of his life. _Oh god that was cheesy,_ George thought, but he's not going to deny anything, because it was true.

So when Owen looks up to see his best friend, _no wait, ex best friend now,_ he thought miserably, he doesn't expect to see him smiling, and what he most certainly does not expect is for him to cross the room mutter "I love you too, you dope" whilst shaking his head, and kiss him. Owen was so shocked at first that he couldn't react. He just sat completely still one thought crossing his mind. _George is kissing me, George is kissing me, oh my, He's actually kissing me._ Owen responds sliding his arm round George's waist and kissing him back softly, he could feel Georges chapped lips getting caught in his as he relaxed into the kiss, pulling George closer to him. It wasn't how people describe a perfect kiss. There were no fireworks or explosions or whatever people talk about when they talk about kissing, but it felt right, and Owen was filled with a content warm sensation, like the feeling you get after drinking a good cup of tea, or hot chocolate, only a million times better.

When George accidentally bit him they both fell into fits of breathy giggles until they were laying down next to each other on that _bloody bed_ , although Owen supposes after that, he probably owes the bed an apology for being so horrible in his thoughts about it. Oh yes, and a thank you too he supposes.

They lie in a contented silence next to each other, hands loosely connected, until Owen sits up abruptly and exclaims "I can't believe you suggested I'd rather sleep with Sam anyway, he'd probably take up all the space and not share the blankets properly or something like that, I mean really George?" George just grins and him and replies "Shhh  stop complaining and cuddle with me"

**Author's Note:**

> didn't want to delete this incase anyone wanted to read it but I really don't like it and I can't stop thinking about it and it's ridiculous being so stressed over something like this so I've orphaned it.


End file.
